


Warm Heart, Beautiful Sparks

by Sunshine712



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Established Relationship, Festivals, Fireworks, Fluff, Friendship, M/M, soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-22
Updated: 2020-09-22
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:33:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26297218
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sunshine712/pseuds/Sunshine712
Summary: Kiyoomi has never been to a festival. That’s about to change.
Relationships: Minor or Background Relationship(s), Miya Atsumu/Sakusa Kiyoomi
Comments: 14
Kudos: 145





	Warm Heart, Beautiful Sparks

**Author's Note:**

> Hi all and HAPPY SAKUSA WEEK!
> 
> I wasn’t planning to write this, but I saw the prompt about 3 weeks ago and my brain just spun this idea. 
> 
> Sakusa week Day 4 Tier 2 - **Festivals/Fireworks**

Sakusa Kiyoomi has never been to a festival. It's nothing surprising, considering his aversion to crowds and his dislike for loud noises.

"It's not like I'm missing out on much," is what he says, when the MSBY Black Jackals plan to go to the festival together and he refuses, and, with a little jibe from Atsumu, admits that he's never been before.

And it's true. He honestly doesn't think his not going to festivals has any large impact on his life at all.

Except— except maybe he's grown up listening to Komori recount his escapades at different stall games, winning all sorts of little prizes; maybe he's been the audience to Bokuto and Hinata gushing over the festival foods they've definitely got to try one too many times; maybe he's seen the fireworks on TV and in pictures, and the tiny, romantic part of him wonders what it would be like to see them in person with Atsumu by him side, watching the exploding colours paint his blonde hair different shades.

But even then, his curiosity isn't enough to put himself at risk of so many germs and bacteria.

So he turns down the invitation for a group outing, warning them all to be careful and to watch what they eat, because 1) who knows what's touched that food, and 2) they're professional athletes who need to maintain a diet, even if it's off-season.

He doesn't catch the way Atsumu's eyes linger on his back, head tilted in thought.

There's a knock on his door a week and a half later, when he's reading a book and staying off his phone—to protect his eyes, of course. It definitely doesn't have anything to do with the pictures and stories that are still circulating from the team's festival outing.

He opens the door to see a beaming Atsumu. “Omi-kun! I came ter pick ya up fer our date!”

Kiyoomi blinks, taking a split second to run through his schedule in his head. “We don’t have plans tonight.”

“Well, we do now! C’mon, grab yer mask and let’s go!” Atsumu does a little clap with his hands.

Kiyoomi pauses. Thinks about his original plans of eating dinner then drawing himself a bath and relaxing for the night. It was an attractive plan and one that he’d been looking forward to, but… He looks at Atsumu again, eyes shining with poorly-concealed excitement, body swaying slightly on the balls of his feet.

He grabs a mask.

Atsumu grins, threading their fingers together as he leads them out of the apartment complex with a spring in his steps.

If Kiyoomi were to be honest, the blonde’s excitement makes him a little curious. “Where are we going?”

But Atsumu only gives him a smile, shaking his head slightly. “It’s a surprise~” he sings.

Atsumu can be secretive all he likes, but it takes Kiyoomi all of five minutes to recognise the familiar path towards the gym. “We’re going to practice?” It’s not that he doesn’t want to, volleyball is probably his second favourite thing to do in the world, placed only after cleaning, but the off-season has literally just started and he knows the importance of taking a break once in a while. He entertains the thought that maybe the bath would’ve been a better idea after all.

The boy beside him hums, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Just trust me, Omi.”

He starts to hear music as they near the courts. He wonders just what Atsumu has in store, but then they reach the doors leading to the court and— _oh_.

Atsumu steps through the door, tugging him along. "Welcome to yer personal festival, Omi-kun!" He spreads his arms wide, as though presenting Kiyoomi to the sight in front of him.

Fairy lights are strung up on the walls and hanging down from the bleachers, flickering with rainbow hues. Spaced out along three sides of the stadium are little stalls, behind which he sees many familiar faces. Along the wall that doesn't have tables is a stage, set up with microphones and speakers, the source of the current music, which has switched over to a song filled with the unmistakable sound of taiko drums.

“‘Tsumu…” He doesn’t know what to say. Never in his life had he expected this, except now the proof is right in front of him, and Kiyoomi is speechless. He hopes his expression is enough to convey the mess of emotions he is right now.

Atsumu seems to get it, because his eyes crinkle into a smile, all soft and gentle. “There’s one more thing,” he says, before grabbing the bag by the door and taking out a haori. “I got yer measurements from coach and got this made. It’s brand new, I promise.” He hesitantly lifts it behind Kiyoomi’s back to let him slide his arms through.

Kiyoomi’s still staring in shock, and Atsumu takes it the wrong way, face falling a little as his arms falter. “Ah, it’s okay if ya don’t wanna risk it, ya don’t have ter wear it—”

He stops him from drawing away, quickly putting the haori on. It’s made of black fabric, covered by a pattern of white swans interspersed with little red flowers. He lets Atsumu smooth it down for him before stepping back to admire it.

“Omi ya look so good!” It’s probably a little weird, wearing something so traditional over his sweater and track pants, but Kiyoomi finds himself not minding one bit. “I wanted ter get a yukata or a kimono made, but it would’ve taken too long. Even this one had to cost extra ter be finished on time...” The blonde still sounds a little too timid, fidgeting with his fingers and peering at Kiyoomi questioningly.

It strikes him that he still hasn’t said anything. “I like it. Thank you, ‘Tsumu.”

It’s fascinating and cute how the blonde brightens up immediately, excitedly pulling out another haori and slipping it on himself. It’s the same design as his, but with blue flowers instead of red. _Pretty_ , Kiyoomi thinks.

A couple cherry blossom petals float down onto them, and he looks up to see Hinata and Kageyama scattering the flowers from the audience area above them, the orange-head grinning and waving whilst his partner nods at them in greeting. A petal skims the side of Kiyoomi’s face, and perhaps it leaves its colour behind as it falls, painting his cheeks a soft pink when Atsumu lifts his hand to pick a few stray petals out of his dark curls.

The setter’s soft hand trails from his hair to his face, gently brushing along his cheekbone before dropping down to take his hand. He leads him through the ‘stalls’, which in reality is just tables covered with patterned tablecloths and with different items set out on each table, but after all the effort it clearly took to organise this, Kiyoomi is willing to put in some imagination and complete the scene. “It’s off-season, so I managed ter get everyone ter help me out,” the blonde explains.

He can see that.

There’s Osamu running a stall with all the food, presenting him a freshly made onigiri on the palm of his gloved hand when they arrive. “One umeboshi onigiri, fer our very important guest.” Kiyoomi accepts the onigiri, tugging his mask off to bite into it, savouring the sourness seeping through the warm rice. There’s also yakitori sizzling away on the portable stove, and takoyaki waiting to be flipped in their little pan, which Osamu quickly whips up and offers to them. “Enjoy yer evening.” 

Bokuto and Akaashi are running a kingyo sukui stall, three goldfish lazily swimming in a large, shallow bowl. Kiyoomi raises one eyebrow at the lack of fish, to which Akaashi explains, “These are the goldfish that Meian-san keeps as pets.” Atsumu nudges Kiyoomi to give it a shot, which he does, failing miserably when the paper scoop breaks as soon as he tries to lift it, the golden fish tumbling back into the bowl with a little _splash!_ Atsumu laughs next to him, loud and joyous, and Kiyoomi finds himself joining in. He lets Atsumu hold his hand and demonstrate how to do it correctly, and together they catch all three fish, only to release them back in and accept their prize in the form of two bottles of ramune that Akaashi wipes down before passing over. He catches Atsumu’s wide smile, obvious even behind the bottle, and the cool burst of fizzy sweetness in Kiyoomi’s mouth doesn’t change a thing about the warmth spreading in his chest.

Oliver is standing at the next stall, a ring toss game set up. Atsumu challenges him to a competition, which Kiyoomi immediately accepts. “Hold this,” he shoves his bottle of ramune towards the blonde, taking the rings and standing at the line indicated, preparing to toss. He gets four out of five rings onto the little poles set up. Atsumu also gets his first four rings onto the poles, but Kiyoomi inches towards him as he prepares for his fifth throw and plants a kiss on his cheek, shocking the blonde enough to make the toss go completely off. “Omi! Not fair! Yer such a cheat!” The setter complains, but with the flush spreading on his cheeks his expression is less of a scowl and more of a pout. Kiyoomi gives him another peck on the other cheek, shutting him up.

The next stall is manned by Meian and Ushijima. Perhaps seeing his surprise, the Adlers player says, “Atsumu-kun said he needed some helpers, so I volunteered. Hoshiumi and Kageyama are here too.” Kiyoomi nods, remembering the younger setter with Hinata. He looks at the stall before him. It’s a souvenir stall; masks, charms, fans, and pocket handkerchiefs lined up neatly on the table. He picks a fox mask, which Meian cleans with a wipe before handing it to him to put on, and Atsumu ‘buys’ him a nice yellow handkerchief with a little embroidered blossom on the corner.

As they finish going around the stalls, everyone starts sitting in the seats in front of the stage, leaving two seats in the front row for him and Atsumu. The festival music fades out, replaced by the gentle melody played by a shakuhachi. The doors on this side of the court open and out steps Suna, dressed in a floral kimono. “Sunarin knows a bit of traditional dance,” Atsumu whispers next to him, giving Kiyoomi another surprise to add to his list of surprises tonight. Suna does a lovely folk dance, elegantly waving a fan, using it to hide his face only to lower it slowly, letting his lined eyes peek over the top at his audience. It’s a very different image to the Suna he sees on court, and Kiyoomi is a little impressed.

Suna ends his performance and takes a seat next to Osamu as Komori and Hoshiumi step onto the stage. They perform a skit that has everyone laughing, a harmony of giggles and snorts filling the air. Even Kiyoomi can’t hold back a lighthearted chuckle, leaning into Atsumu’s side as he enjoys the performance.

Everyone loiters around afterwards, catching up and hanging out. Bokuto and Hinata challenge each other at the ring toss, roping Kageyama into it easily. Akaashi and Osamu converse over a couple onigiri, the grey-haired twin giving the editor some tips on making them. Suna, Komori, Inuaki and Hoshiumi get back on stage, singing some karaoke songs while Meian and Ushijima sit quietly in the audience along with Oliver, who cheers them on with little whoops and whistles.

There’s people walking back and forth, light music floating in the air with the gentle buzz of conversation laying over it, and Kiyoomi thinks he can finally say that he knows what going to a festival feels like.

Later, they sit on a bench around the side of the gym, after everything has been cleared up and put away and the group has left.

Atsumu’s head is resting on his shoulder and his arms are wrapped around his waist. They look up at the sky, at the few stars that have battled against the city’s light pollution and won, twinkling in triumph overhead. He tilts his head to put his cheek against Atsumu’s hair. “Thank you, ‘Tsumu. I had fun tonight.” He presses a light kiss onto the fluffy blonde hair, nuzzling into the warm coconut smell.

He feels Atsumu shift his attention to him, and hears the smile in his voice when he replies softly. “Good. I never want my Omi-kun ter miss out on anythin’ fun.” He slowly lifts himself off his shoulder, like he didn’t actually want to get up. “There’s one last thing though.”

He reaches into his bag and pulls out a package, lifting it to show the other. Kiyoomi squints to read the writing in the dim lighting, but his eyes widen when he figures out what they are.

They’re sparklers, the type he’s seen young children play around with on New Years, drawing trails of light in the night. “A festival isn’t complete without fireworks, right, Omi?” Atsumu looks pleased with himself, and Kiyoomi thinks he has every right to be. “I wanted ter have actual fireworks, but apparently there’s laws and regulations and whatnot so that’s not possible, but I got these instead!”

Kiyoomi smiles at his cute little ramble, and it’s only when Atsumu gives a little “oh” that he realises he’s not wearing a mask. Hasn’t been wearing one since taking it off to eat earlier. “Ah, Omi, yer mask—” Atsumu starts reaching into his bag where he always keeps a new mask for him, but Kiyoomi catches his wrist.

“Leave it. Just for tonight.”

Atsumu’s eyes shine with joy when he looks at him. “Okay.”

There’s a childlike giddiness in Atsumu’s movements when he rips open the packaging and pulls out two sparklers, handing one to Kiyoomi before fiddling in his pocket and withdrawing a lighter. “Ya ready, Omi-kun?”

Kiyoomi answers with a nod, and then the sparklers are lit and sparkling silver and gold, a blaze of light moving down the wire with little crackles. They watch the sparks fly until the sparkler burns out and the light fades, a final few sparks dropping towards the floor.

Atsumu lights another one, and this time he waves it around, drawing circles of golden light. He giggles like a little kid seeing fireworks for the first time, calling for Kiyoomi to “look at it Omi!”. Kiyoomi’s sure it’s beautiful, because it was made to be looked at. But he thinks the same for Atsumu too, with the mini fireworks lighting up his high cheekbones and the sparkles reflecting like stars in his golden-brown eyes.

“Beautiful,” he whispers.

“Yea, it is,” comes the reply, equally soft in volume.

Kiyoomi blinks. “ _You’re_ beautiful,” he repeats, a little louder.

There’s a little hitch in Atsumu’s breath, and pink dusts his cheeks and across the bridge of his nose, illuminated by the fading firework. The sight of Atsumu shyly ducking his head is so ethereal that Kiyoomi thinks maybe Atsumu is a fairy, and the sparkler is his wand that he uses to cast his magic and create an illusion, because Kiyoomi doesn’t think he’s real.

He is real though, and Kiyoomi has a blushing Atsumu in front of him, whining “Omi-kun, stop starin’ at me!” and refusing to meet his eyes.

Kiyoomi’s already holding a new sparkler when the one in Atsumu’s hand fades out, pinching it between his thumb and index finger and tangling the rest of his fingers with Atsumu’s so that they’re holding it together.

Atsumu lights it and Kiyoomi leans in as the blaze flares up again, tilting Atsumu’s head and pressing their lips together, tongues tangling like their fingers. The spot of light burns between them as they kiss, warm like the way Kiyoomi feels, beautiful like the way Atsumu is.

Their lips linger long after the firework dies away, going from passionate and fast to languid and sweet. Atsumu is addictive, and Kiyoomi has no thought of pulling away. In the end it’s Atsumu who pulls back, eyes glazed and lips parted as he catches his breath, dazed yet so stunning and _beautiful_ that Kiyoomi can’t resist leaving little kisses along his jawline and down his neck before cupping his cheek and coming back up to capture his lips in one last searing kiss.

The blonde is soft and pliant in his arms when Kiyoomi pulls away, all traces of his usual arrogant, teasing self gone, leaving in its place a boy that’s so, so in love. “I love you Omi,” he murmurs, pupils dilated and lips shiny.

 _Absolutely enchanting_ , thinks Kiyoomi, as he steals another kiss before drawing away to whisper back. “I love you too”.

**Author's Note:**

> I've been mostly writing thread-fics for the past month, so this was kinda a way to ease myself back into writing an actual fic—I hope it's not too awful!
> 
> Also, I hope you guys keep enjoying Sakusa week and all the content people have been creating! For more of my writing please head onto [my twitter](https://twitter.com/Sun_shine712)!


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